


one thing right

by kontj (kaguol)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaguol/pseuds/kontj
Summary: kageyama has done a lot of things in order to get to where he is today. there are regrets, sure, but at least he’s done one thing right.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	one thing right

They called him a king – so he gathered up the words they threw his way and made a crown.

 _Alone_.

The word hangs above his head, a cloud of gray that casts a shadow onto his otherwise bright blue eyes. He knew the word by sight and by taste – the sharp taste of metal and the cavern that opened between him and his peers that followed.

 _Lonely_.

This word, he learned, is similar to the first one. It sounds like the hollowness in his chest, and the sorrow in his eyes. It stares back at him with the same dark hair and tight sneer, and it moves with the same calculated gait.

These words were ingrained into his mind, etched into his skin in places where only he could see. The words pulsated underneath his clothes, as he tried to drown it out with hours upon hours of practice. He let the angry red of the volleyball hitting his arms overcome the repetitive swirls of his seclusion.

They gave him a title he didn’t want, and ripped it from him when he was starting to find comfort in it.

He said nothing. He tasted bile as he sat on the bench and watched the rest of the match carry on smoother without him. _It was better this way_ , he would say to himself. It was a lie, but it dulled away the sharp edges, and that was more than enough.

So he kept the charade up – he found himself a team that brought out his potential, and for all it was worth, it had been the best three years of his life. He learned more words then. He learned that _rival_ and _friend_ could be the same person. He learned that _teamwork_ and _competition_ didn’t have to end in a bitter fight with someone left on the stands.

His hands knew the feel of the ball, and his heart began to get used to the thrill of its contact with the floor after it was smashed down by both his rival and friend.

As much as he wanted to hold on to his safe haven, there had been an expiration date neatly stamped into the side, complete with a ceremony and tear-filled eyes. He learned that _tears_ were the appropriate response when you yourself couldn’t figure out the feelings in your chest.

Once again, he was alone.

There was an offer on the table that should’ve made his eyes well up in tears – happy tears, like the one he saw on the faces of his seniors when he was a freshman. He waited, twirling the pen in his hand as he looked over the contract.

His hand glided over paper, his elegant scrawl blotting against the fine print of his name.

The joy came then, a weak pulse somewhere in his chest, as he pulled the doors open and marveled at the court that seemed to scream his name. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

He wore his jersey with pride, and stepped into the court with his head held high. He envisioned the crown of glass from his youth, and molded a similar one from the voices that called out his name as they took their positions.

On the court, he was no king – he was Kageyama Tobio, and his name beget both respect and fear from the opposing side.

But as he stared at the fiery orange hair and the faux blonde connect, a sharp pain snaked its way into his chest. He knew the move very well, and he found his conflicting feelings a fresh experience as he burned through his stamina.

He remembered that friend and rival could be the same person – and he added that pride and envy could go hand in hand as well.

After the match, he stayed behind, clearing his mind by throwing a hundred balls into the air and sending them flying onto the opposite end of the court, a centimeter shy from the line. The sound echoed throughout the whole gym, but it sounded like the same taunts that haunted him from before.

Kageyama remembered loneliness from muscle memory, and it clung onto him the more he tried to shake it off. He fell head first into the abyss he had dug up for himself – the black hole that he had pushed back into his mind finally catching up to him.

He clung onto the edges, lungs desperate for a breath of air, eyes frantically searching for a ray of light. For salvation, a miracle, for _anything_.

“Kageyama-kun?”

His eyes snapped back into the present, and found himself in the middle of the court, hands clutching the ball hard enough it stung. He turned to the direction of the voice, and found tired eyes staring back at him with a softness he knew he didn’t deserve.

His heart lurched, and his knees gave out under him. He braced himself for the pain, but heard only the thump of the ball on the ground. Opening his eyes, he found himself flush against their team nutritionist – arms wrapped around his torso and holding him close.

Kageyama let out a shaky breath, feeling the hands rub soothing circles into his back. Apologies fall from his lips as the dams behind his eyes finally break. His quiet sobs pierce through the silence, hands clinging onto your shirt like a life line.

It took a while for him to calm down, and his face immediately flushes at his obvious display of attention. But as he meets your eyes for an apology for his behavior, you cut him off with comments about his performance, saving him the trouble of embarrassment.

You meticulously gave him pointers as the two of you make your way to your car, and he remembered the way your car smelled of something that reminded him of home.

“Thank you.” His voice is raw and scratchy, but it has a vulnerability that surprised the two of you. It could be interpreted for the ride home, or for the many notes, or for the way you had grounded him. You knew what he meant, so you met his eyes and gave him a smile.

For the first time in a long while, Kageyama slept without the nightmare of a shattered crown and an empty throne.

He woke to the sound of his alarm, the sun still low on the horizon as he jogged throughout the neighborhood. His mind went back to the conversation of the night before, keeping to your evaluation of his form during the match against the Black Jackals.

He realized with a jolt that you had to have been attentive to the gave to notice such details – and it sent a wave of pleasure throughout his body when he realized that you had been attentive of _him_. Kageyama shook his head, slapping his hands on either cheek to remind him that _of course_ you were looking. You had to be, so you could tune their diets to what they needed. You’d probably give Ushijima and the rest an evaluation if need be.

His phone chirped, interrupting his train of thought. Pulling it out, he couldn’t help but feel his face heat up at the message from the person he’d been thinking about. It was a simple text, _‘you better not skip breakfast today, Kageyama-kun!’_ followed by a sticker of a seagull glaring at him, but it pulled his lips into a grin that he couldn’t shake off even as he made his way home.

Kageyama prepared the breakfast then, forgoing his initial plan to get a few serves in his system for an hour of peace in his apartment. He snapped a semi-blurry photo of his meal and sent it back, and spent his breakfast bantering with you – the smile on his face growing wider.

As time progressed, the blueberry haired seter found himself naturally gravitating towards you. He’d spend his breaks sampling food combinations and exchanging gossip with you, and would sometimes help you on a grocery run for the rest.

He found himself slowly opening up to the rest of his team, going from mere pleasantries exchanged out of politeness, to mornings in Hoshiumi’s apartment, nursing a hangover (he also learned that fruity drinks are secretly more alcoholic, therefore _cannot_ be trusted).

Somewhere between practice matches and nights spent exchanging jokes over text, he found himself standing between a cliff, teetering between the lines of friendship and attraction.

He fought with himself once more, torn between wanting to keep the friendship he built with you and wanting to hold you close in a way that only he could. He learned the words _selfish_ and _selfless_ are horrible twins.

“Kageyama-kun?”

Once again, he was brought out of his mind by the same melody, the syllables of his name lilting in a way that made it seem like a song. His eyes found yours, and his heart raced against his chest, wanting to do nothing more than to fall headfirst into the ground and pray that the impact would be enough to bear.

He took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. But before he could say something stupid and backwards, he was taken aback at the boldness of yours.

“Are you free sometime this weekend?”

He blinked, staring at you for what seemed to be a millennium. He knew that falling in love had a risk – what he didn’t count on was the possibility that maybe you had wanted to jump with him.

“I mean, I know your schedule – not in the creepy way or anything – but I just –”

“Yes.”

The simple word ceased your babbling, and Kageyama had to restrain himself from kissing you then and there. He saw stars in your eyes as you looked at him, lips curling into a devilish smile that sent his heart racing.

The feeling never subsided, even as he flopped onto his bed that night, burrowing his face into midnight blue pillows to muffle his shrieks of disbelief.

Kageyama never took into account what would follow after – spending the first few dates one-upping the other for ‘the best date ever!’ or that the relationship would slowly settle into a peaceful domesticity that involved pillow forts and lazy kisses, as well as the nights of bruising kisses and satin blindfolds.

As he stared at your figure, mouth slightly agape with your face buried on the same plush duvet he had screamed into almost three years ago, he did nothing to stop the smile on his face.

There had been a lot of setbacks in his life, and for the most part he had dealt with it in his lonesome. But, throughout it all, he had no regrets, for every decision he made lead to meeting the love of his life.

“Tobio?”

His heart soared, as he took in your heavy-eyed expression, hand outstretched and pulling on his nightshirt. “What’re you doing…” you lulled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Your eyes widened at the man in front of you. This was not the Kageyama Tobio that the world knew and loved – volleyball extraordinaire, with the hands blessed by the gods to deliver inhuman sets.

No, this was _your_ Kageyama Tobio, clad in nothing but an old sweatshirt and boxers, the moon accentuating the edges of his face as he stared at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

And in his hands, is a velvet box, propped open to reveal a ring – and a promise.

“Want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

You tore away from his gaze and basically ripped open the undercarriage of the bed, revealing a similar velvet box with a band that you had had engraved.

“You stole my line!”

Tears obscured your visions as a mixture of sobs and laughter pealed from your lips, the two of you nodding vigorously. With shaky hands and happy hearts, the two of you fumbled to get the rings onto your hands, closing the gap between your lips and resting your foreheads against each other.

He might’ve been the youth to burn bridges at the first sight of conflict, or the adult who still struggled to keep his head clear come adversity – but it was nothing compared to the arms that wrapped around his neck and the lips that tasted of home.

“At least with you,” he murmured against the kiss.

_“I’m doing one thing right.”_


End file.
